


Progression

by Persiflage



Category: Law & Order: UK
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-30
Updated: 2010-10-30
Packaged: 2017-10-12 23:29:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/130330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alesha's and James' relationship moves forward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Progression

**Author's Note:**

> Author Notes: This fic is a sequel to "Aftermath".  
> Disclaimer: ITV owns Law & Order: UK.  
> Spoilers: Up to 1.05: Buried

Matt Devlin scowls into his empty coffee cup. "Is it me, or is Alesha Phillips being way more protective of James Steel since he had that run in with Luke Slade?"

Ronnie Brooks looks over the top of his glasses at his partner with a rather baffled expression. "It's you," he says, pushing his glasses back up his nose and peering back at his computer screen.

"I dunno. It seems like we speak to her a lot more often than him these days," Matt says.

"What's the matter? Are you jealous she's looking after her boss, and not paying attention to you?" asks Ronnie, still peering at the screen. He knows perfectly well that Matt fancies Alesha. Not that he blames his partner since she's a lovely young woman, but Ronnie admires the way she's made it pretty clear – and without saying a word – that while she doesn't mind Matt's flirting, she doesn't take it seriously.

"A bit, yeah." He sighs wistfully. "I wonder if she'd go out for a drink with me."

"Only one way to find out, son, and that's ask."

"But what if she says no?" asks Matt worriedly.

Ronnie looks up again. "What if she does? It's hardly the end of the world. And I don't suppose she'd hold it against you."

"I just think I'd feel awkward, you know?"

Ronnie frowns, then shakes his head, still baffled.

* * * * * *

It's just after 6.30pm when James gets back to the office, and Alesha fetches him a mug of coffee without waiting to be asked. He's pulled his tie (the one with blue and purple diamonds today) loose, and he sits with his eyes closed and his shoulders slumped until she sets the drink down in front of him.

He opens his eyes at the slight noise and summons a tired smile. "Thanks, Alesha."

She nods. "How was he?" she asks, leaning against the edge of his desk beside him, her eyes fixed on his face. She can see the usual guilt and sadness in his eyes that manifests after one of these visits.

"He seemed a little better today," James answers. "Elizabeth says he's making some progress, slow, but progress all the same."

"I'm glad," she says softly. She'd gone with him on his first visit to Jono Blake, but after that he's always gone alone. He says they can't really afford for them both to be away from the office for two hours, but Alesha's fairly sure he's just saying that because he's trying to protect her, knowing she was so upset by their first visit. She knows Jono should be punished for killing Danny Jackson, but she worries what will become of him in five years time, once he has to move to an adult prison. Then she remembers George's comment about her bleeding heart, and feels her stomach clench: surely it can't be wrong to care about someone who's just a boy?

As if he's aware of the trend of her thoughts, James brushes his hand across hers as he reaches for his mug of coffee. "So, what did I miss while I was out?" he asks, attempting a briskness they both know he's not feeling.

"Not a lot," she assures him. "Nothing that can't wait until the morning. You should go home, have a long hot bath, eat a meal, and get some sleep."

He smiles genuinely this time. "You're getting bossy, Ms Phillips," he says, a teasing light in his eyes.

"I'm being sensible," she retorts, sounding a little cross. "One of us needs to be."

"Hey," he says gently, sitting up straighter. "Are you mad at me?"

"No." She starts to move away from his desk, but he catches hold of her wrist, holding it loosely so she can pull away if she wants, but she stays.

"What is it then?" he asks, rubbing his thumb over the inside of her wrist, and she wonders if he even realises he's doing it, or if it's a deliberate ploy on his part.

"I worry about you," she answers, looking at the floor, not his face, as if she's embarrassed by the admission. "You work incredibly long hours most days. You don't sleep much, and you hardly ever relax. If you're not a bit more careful, you'll work yourself into an early grave."

He lets go of her wrist, which is both a relief and a disappointment, and reaches up to lift her chin with his forefinger so he can look her in the eyes. "Very well," he says, and smiles at the look of relief that fills her eyes. "Come with me."

"What?" she asks, confused.

"Come home with me," he says. Then adds "Please?"

It's on the tip of her tongue to refuse, but the soft, slightly pleading note in his 'please' makes her waver. He sounds vulnerable, which unnerves her because she's never thought of him in that light before – to her James is the personification of strength, even when weary.

"You don't have to stay the night, if you'd rather not," he says, sensing her indecision. "I'll send you home in a taxi if you prefer. But I'd appreciate some company, and although I could wait for George to get back from whichever interminable dinner he's gone to tonight, I'd prefer your company to his."

"All right," she says. "Just give me ten minutes to sort out my stuff, then I'm all yours."

"Promise?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow at her and grinning when she blushes.

She puts her hand on his chest. "Don't push your luck, Mr Steel," she answers, but there's a promising glint in her eye as she moves away and goes to her desk.

James' smirk becomes a grin, and he watches her while fiddling with his Rubik's Cube. He sees her bend over to pick up a file from one of the piles in front of her desk and instantly he's transported to the previous Friday evening:

 **Last week**

Alesha moans as James pushes into her, her grip on the kitchen table tightening in response to his deep penetration. Her knickers are in a heap on the floor, the back of her skirt is up around her waist, and her blouse is unbuttoned. James, meanwhile, has his trousers and boxers around his ankles.

"You do realise," Alesha says, speaking in short bursts between his thrusts, "that I won't be able to look at this table without remembering this?"

He chuckles richly, and she feels her muscles clenching tightly around him at the sound. "If it's any consolation," he tells her, "every time you bend over in the office, I'll have a mental image of you bent over this table being fucked." She gasps, her muscles spasming in climax before he continues speaking. "Imagine what that will do to my concentration."

"Serves you right for wanting to do this here," she tells him, laughing softly.

"It's worth the distraction, though," he answers, his pace increasing as he recognises the tell-tale signs of his impending orgasm.

She comes a second time as he reaches his climax, and then slumps down onto the table, her bare breasts pressed against the wood as he leans over her, his forearms taking his weight. She feels him slip out of her, and he kisses the top of her spine, before moving away to dispose of the condom.

 **Now**

"Ready?" asks Alesha, oblivious of the direction his thoughts have taken.

"Um, yeah," he answers, standing up and quickly grabbing his bag, hoping she won't spot his arousal.

She grins, though, and he knows he wasn't quick enough in moving his bag in front of his body. "Looks like you're ready for something other than going home, Mr Steel," she teases.

He flushes, to her amusement, before he answers. "You were bending over just now."

This time Alesha looks embarrassed as she realises what's set him off. "Oh."

"Come on, let's go." He wraps his scarf around his neck again, then slings his bag onto his shoulder. She is already wrapped in coat and scarf, her heavy leather bag in her hand, and her handbag slung across her chest.

"Ready when you are," she answers, and follows him out.

* * * * * *

Once at James' flat, they settle onto the sofa with the pizza and garlic bread that they picked up en route, and he puts on the radio, flicking through the stations until he reaches one playing something classical.

They eat and talk, and every time James starts talking about work Alesha changes the subject, until he stops and looks at her, one eyebrow raised. She tilts her head at him in response, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"All right," he says, sounding half amused, half irritated. "I'll shut up about work."

"Good," she answers, clearly satisfied.

They finish eating and James makes some coffee.

"How about a shoulder massage?" she suggests when he returns. "If you're not going to have that bath."

"I was going to do that before going to bed," he answers. "But a shoulder massage now would be nice."

"Sit on the floor then," she says, kicking off her shoes and shifting to sit cross legged on the sofa.

He gives her a sketchy salute, smirking when she rolls her eyes in response, then obeys, leaning his back against the sofa where she sits. She unfastens his tie and removes it, then unbuttons his shirt at the top before sliding her hands inside and beginning to work at his knotted muscles. He murmurs in a pleased way as she sets to work, and his eyes close as his chin drops towards his chest.

After 20 minutes Alesha's hands are starting to ache and she thinks James may have dozed off to sleep, so she strokes her right index finger lightly over his Adam's apple, then lifts her hands away.

"Thank you," he says, startling her into a small squeak of surprise.

"You're welcome."

He gets up and sits down beside her, then leans forward to kiss her, putting his left hand on her right knee. She moans softly when his hand slides further up her leg; his right hand is holding the back of her head, fingertips lightly massaging her neck as he kisses her. His fingers reach her sex and he begins stroking her, pressing the increasingly damp silk of her knickers against her skin, which elicits whimpers from her: he loves the sounds she makes at times like this.

The next moment it's his turn to moan when she starts stroking his cock through his trousers. After a few moments she unfastens his trousers and eases his rapidly stiffening erection free. James gives a soft sigh before slipping two fingers inside her knickers to tease her further.

"Fuck!" gasps Alesha, tearing her mouth free to gasp in air.

"Do you want to?" he asks, his fingers still working inside her.

"Yes," she hisses.

He pulls his fingers free and gently pushes her shoulder to get her to lie back on the sofa, then he eases off her damp knickers, sliding them tantalisingly slowly down her shapely, stockinged legs. He drops them onto the floor beside her discarded shoes, then looks down at her as she lies supine beside him.

"You look gorgeous," he tells her, leaning down to kiss her while unfastening her blouse.

"Thank you," she murmurs, then moans when his kisses move from her mouth to her breasts. She squirms under his onslaught of sucks and nips, and clasps his head, her fingers threading through his short blond hair.

"James!" she gasps.

He lifts his head, smirking a little, because he knows it drives her crazy when he does this to her sensitive breasts. "Alesha?" he asks, surprisingly calm and collected, despite the fact she can see he's very hard now.

"Stop being a tease, or I'm going home," she says, glowering.

"You wouldn't! Would you?" His confident assertion shades to alarm when he sees her resolute expression.

She gives him a stern look as she reaches for his cock. "I would," she answers.

He nods, so she lets go of him, and he lifts his jacket down from the back of the sofa, delving into the pocket for a condom.

Moments later she's murmuring with satisfaction as he pushes inside her. "There's an element of naughtiness about having sex while mostly clothed," she observes as he begins to move above her.

He gazes down at her and she feels a blush heating her cheeks at the intensity of his gaze. "You know what I'd really like to do?" he asks quietly.

"What?"

"Have sex with you when we're dressed in our Court robes," he answers, grinning at her surprised expression.

"In the robing room at the Court?" she asks, eyes wide.

"Well, that would be a bonus," he answers, "but tricky to arrange without getting caught. Certainly more dangerous than a quickie in the office."

"You've thought about that too?" she asks, not quite sure whether to believe him.

"I was thinking about it that night we went back to the office to dig the dirt on Slade," he admits.

Alesha wonders if she's imaging the slightly embarrassed expression on his face. "Naughty boy," she teases.

He ducks his head to kiss her, moving faster now, and they don't bother to attempt further conversation until they climax together. They lie trying to catch their breath and she slowly strokes his back, feeling his muscles have relaxed.

"Better?" she asks quietly. She thinks he must be – certainly his eyes hold less guilt and sadness than when he arrived back at the office after visiting Jono.

"Yes, thank you." He lifts himself off her, then takes her hand and pulls her upright. "Let's go and have that bath," he suggests.

"Okay."

* * * * * *

They spend half an hour in the bath, washing each other, and talking in a desultory way; most of Alesha's attention is on the sensations that are caused by James' use of the sponge on her skin, and he, in turn, seems sleepy from the massage and the sex.

"C'mon Mr Steel, I'm going to turn into a wrinkled old prune if we don't move." She leans back against his chest, though, when he wraps his arms around her and nuzzles at her neck.

"You'd still look beautiful," he says gallantly.

She turns her head and kisses him on the mouth, one hand holding his head steady. "You're such a gentleman, James," she murmurs after she releases him.

Then she stands up and they help each other out of the bath and dry off.

"Are you – That is, would you like to stay tonight?" he asks once they're wrapped in bathrobes.

"Yes," she answers simply. "I'll have to go back to my flat in the morning, before I go to work, but I'd like to stay if you would like me to."

"I would."

She smiles up at him, seeing a fleeting expression of relief on his face. "Let's go to bed," she says. It's still fairly early, but she knows from experience that they won't sleep through the night.

* * * * * *

The following morning he gives her breakfast, and then rings for a taxi to take her back to her flat so she can change her clothes and pick up a couple of things.

"I'll see you at the office in about an hour," she says, standing by the door as she waits for the taxi to arrive.

He reaches out to brush back one of her curls, then dips his head to kiss her. "And we'll be well behaved," he agrees when he lets her go.

"We'll be busy," she answers, hoping she doesn't sound regretful.

He nods, looking a little melancholy, and she lifts a hand, resting it on his chest as she stretches up on tiptoes to kiss him. Then she opens the door and goes out to the taxi, and he sighs before going to get dressed.


End file.
